


Line Of Sight

by Cafe_Au_Lait



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Anal Sex, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, I watched a lot of Tyler Henry, Light Angst, Long Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Mutual Pining, Once we move past all of the emotional shit, Porn with Feelings, Psychic Abilities, Short Chapters, but later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-03-29 10:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13925148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cafe_Au_Lait/pseuds/Cafe_Au_Lait
Summary: Clairvoyance, precognition, automatic writing, mediumship; those words always struck chords within Katsuki Yuuri as he grew up. A gift from the gods, his mother said when he was young, crying hysterically. A terrible sin, other folk claimed, snapping as he begged them to 'please, listen, you need to listen'. The way women giggle and cooed when they asked for insulting palm readings, begging to know the secrets of their love life while he peddled money from his gift.His gift.Was it really a gift?Only Yuuri could really know.





	1. Drive

Yuuri doesn't drive. 

He learned of course, as a teenager, the first night he had ever taken to the road he had wrecked into another car, due to the images and whispered words flashed through his head that distracted him so greatly, causing him to panic and hit the gas. His father was slumped halfway down in the passenger seat with a green complexion as he checked the trashed minivan used for cargo. His father sat in the backseat from that point onward.

So no, Yuuri doesn't drive, because if he could have a head on collision in a back alley of small port town like Hasetsu, there is no way he'd survive the winding highways of Detroit. Everyone drove like they had someone to be and fast. He could barely handle going twenty-five in a thirty zone.  

So when Phichit asks him to drive down to a favorite local bar with him, his immediate answer is:

"No way."

His roommate let out the most annoyingly pitiful whine, stomping his feet in a short temper tantrum. 

"Yuuri, you've quite literally been living in a nest for the past week. Look at your room! Your little ghostie papers are everywhere!"

"They are not 'little ghostie papers' Phichit, their my auto writing."

"Well your 'auto writing' is making an auto-motherfuckin' mess." Yuuri rolled his eyes at the comment, going back to the task at hand: beating all of the sad jocks at  _Fortnite_ online. Now  _they_ were the real mess. Their formation was terrible. "Get up, get dressed and come out with me!"

"I don't drink. That's not happening again." 

"Okay, well, I do, and I need you to make sure I don't leave with some stud before you figure out his name. Safety first, sober friend! Safety first!"

"And what, you want me to drive you back home? You know that's not happening. I couldn't stomach that for a second unless you have a death wish." Now it was Phichit's turn to roll his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not  _that_ air-headed. That's what Uber is for. I just want you to be there. Is that too much to ask, my Yuuri-chan? Hmm?" Yuuri couldn't help but let out a resentful sigh as he shot away at one of the players of the tennis team who screamed profanities over the shitty headset mic he owned.

"I guess not. But if I get all weird and spaced out, you better stop me before I embarrass myself. I'm not the best in crowds."

"Yeah, yeah, I got you. Now put on those absolutely stunning black pants you refuse to wear and avoid your nerd shirts."

"But all of my shirts are nerd shirts."

"No, you've got that button up with the dogs on it don't you?" Yuuri nodded in understanding, slamming his laptop shut and quickly making a move toward his closet, the light blue cotton shirt with various patterns of corgis was clean pressed and wrinkle free while Phichit dug through his drawer's to find the pants he was talking about.

* * *

Yuuri ended up having a single hard apple cider, the night too chilly for him to resist warming up with some light alcohol. Champagne was a no go since last year's Omega Iota frat house shindig after he had made a fool of himself by pole dancing and grinding on one of the hottest guys he had ever seen... that he had never saw again. 

But the thought of last year's monstrosity faded from his mind and filled with symbols and images that he easily ignored, nursing his cider and scribbling away in a little notepad he had the right mind to bring with him. He didn't want to risk angering the barkeep by ruining the counter and getting kicked out or banned. Where else was he supposed to come for Karaoke on Thursdays? 

Phichit was busy running his hands up and down the expanse of a tall Swiss man's arms next to him, with green eyes and curly blonde hair that fell into his face ever so slightly. Per his roommate's request, he kept an eye on him, but wasn't very concerned, as Phichit was still slowly working on the extra large martini he ordered, aka, the cheapest thing on the menu next to some canned Bud Light.

And as Yuuri went to take another sip of his own drink, someone took their seat next to him, ordering their drink over the murmur of the bar. 

"Merlot for me, please, with an extra glass of water."

Yuuri only had half the mind to look up at the man who took his seat, only to make direct eye contact with him as soon as he moved to lick foam from his lip. 

Blue. 

His eyes were so, so blue. 

Hair like starlight fell over his face in a soft looking flop of bangs, his locks cut into a flattering bob that came to Just under his chin, his lips vaguely heart shaped. 

Yuuri couldn't help but stare, hands working by themselves as he flipped the page in his notepad, scribbling away in curly writing that was never used outside of his automatic response to whatever was happening inside his head. 

The silver-haired man blinked. 

Yuuri did too, and vague images flashed behind his eyelids. 

A globe. 

For once, his hand stopped scribbling, pausing on the paper. 

"Linguistics." He blurted out, face flushing immediately. Dammit.

The man's eyes widened, nodding slowly a moment later. 

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Oh, uh, I just... had a feeling." A really strong feeling. 

"Some intuition you have." The man gave a light hearted smile, and Yuuri couldn't resist sending one back, if not a bit softer. "What do you have there? Are you writing a book?" 

The man peeked over Yuuri's shoulder curiously as his hand began to pick up the pace again,  jotting down word after word in an a twisty fashion. 

"Ah- no, I uh, I can't help it. I auto write."

"Auto write? What's that?"

Yuuri hesitated, definition bouncing off of the tip of his tongue.

"Writing said to be produced by a spiritual, occult, or subconscious agency rather than by the conscious intention of the writer." He paused, gauging the man's reaction. "It's a psychic thing. Or a ghostie thing, as my roommate likes to call it." 

"Psychic? You're a psychic?" 

"Psychic is a very umbrella term. I'm a lot of different types of psychic." He paused, the man in front of him looking lost. "But ah, yes. I am a psychic." Yuuri's face only got redder.

"Well, mister psychic, I'm Viktor. Do you have a name oh so mysterious one?" Viktor teased, tapping Yuuri into the middle of his chest. 

"Yuuri. My name's Yuuri." 

 


	2. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you do like... palm readings and stuff?”  
> “No, oh god, no. I’d rather they ask to punch me in the face before they ask me to read their palm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’ll try to update this story every Tuesday or Wednesday, since I don’t plan on making the chapters super long like I usually do. I also wanna clarify something I should have done earlier: Do not attempt to do automatic handwriting unless you were born with the psychic trait or are with a professional (real) psychic. It’s a very dangerous practice, and it gives whatever spirits and/or demons free legal reign of part of your body and gives them permission to come for you.

To say the least, Viktor was unsurprisingly nice. He had a lot of questions, sure, everyone did when they found out what Yuuri could do, but the first question threw him off guard just a bit:

”Do you like it? Being psychic and all.” Yuuri merely blinked, lightly pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, taking a minuscule sip of his drink. 

“No one’s really asked me that before.” 

Viktor beamed. “Well, I’m glad to be a first. But do you? Doesn’t it get overwhelming?”

Yuuri shrugged, turning on his barstool to face Viktor head on “Yeah, sometimes. I can’t really drive because of it. It distracts me a lot depending on what it is and it could be dangerous in a big city like Detroit.”

”Ah, that’s understandable. But where do you work then, if the distractions come so easily?” That was a first question, too. 

“Oh- uh, I work under a medium from Long Island named Teresa. She owns a little store downtown for all the tourists who are interested in supernatural stuff.” Yuuri laughs to himself a little “It’s mostly gag gifts that only people with an affixiation for supernatural practices will realize are fake-“ He snapped his mouth shut, someone in his mind saying ‘too much, too loud’

Yuuri inched back as Viktor leaned forward on his hands, smiling encouragingly, a curious glint in his eye.

”Like what? What do you think would fool me?” 

Yuuri was hesitant to answer, afraid of running his mouth again; his hand scribbled away. 

“Well... she sells little trinkets. Inactive potions, chargeable crystals that aren’t crystals at all, ‘energizing, magical, glowing’ salt rocks you charge in the sun that really just have solar powered tea lights in them-”

”Ouija boards? Tarot cards?”

”No.” Yuuri deadpanned, setting his drink down on the bar a little tougher than necessary. “Those are far too dangerous to sell to someone without them being somewhat a professional or a regular practitioner of magic use, like Wiccans,” Viktor reeled back just a bit as Yuuri whipped to face him. “We won’t sell them to giggling teenagers or tourists looking for some fun, thank you very much.”

’Too much, too loud’

Yuuri’s face turned blazing red, covering his mouth as he broke eye contact with the man in front of him. Viktor remained silent, obviously surprised at Yuuri’s sudden outburst.

”I am so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to snap! I just-“

He was cut off by a sudden burst of laughter, deep and rich like caramel.

Viktor clutched at his stomach, laughing himself silly, making Yuuri blush for another reason.

”Oh, Yuuri, I didn’t know you were so passionate about the safety of others. How cute.” 

“W-Well it is my job as a psychic to make sure everyone has a safe spiritual experience and not... you know... mess with anything they shouldn’t be...”

“Yes, I understand. Well, it now encourages me to be aware of my ‘spiritual purchases’ doesn’t it?” 

Yuuri blinked, once more taking a sip of his cider before realizing it was almost empty.

”Ah- yeah, I guess you could say that... glad to be of help.”

“So you do like... palm readings and stuff?”  
“No, oh god, no. I’d rather they ask to punch me in the face before they ask me to read their palm.”

Viktor giggled, sipping at his merlot delicately with a sense of practiced grace. 

Yuuri closed his eyes briefly.

Achy feet.

Ballet.

He was snapped of his thoughts when Viktor spoke up again.

”So, what other kinds of psychic are you?”

”Huh?”

Viktor tilted his head, hair falling delicately to one side.

”You said earlier that psychic was an umbrella term. What kinds of psychic are you?”

”Ah, well,” Yuuri’s hand scribbled, and he looked over at it briefly as it turned the page. Whoever was using his arm was taking their time. He’d have to flip through the notes soon. “I automatic write... uh, I’m a clairvoyant... mediumship-“

“What’s the difference between the last two?”

’Too much, too loud’

Shut up.

”Well, clairvoyance is communication through senses. I’m shown something, I taste something, I hear something, ecetera. In order to information across.”

”From the spirit world?”

”Sometimes. Most of the time it’s plucked from a person’s mind so I can get to know them. It’s usually all symbolic.”

”And can you do that with me?”

”I already have.” Yuuri blurted. Viktor’s eyes widened, a bubble of pregnant silence sat between them before the Russian shamelessly popped it, practically jumping from his seat on the barstool, stars in his eyes.

”Wow! Really? You have? What have you learned!” Yuuri had half the mind to shush him, the voice in his mind yelling ‘too much, too loud’ once more.

”Shh! Shh!” Yuuri tapped his finger against his lip, aware of all of the pairs of eyes that were on him and the man next to him. Once Viktor had finally settled down, he responded. 

“Well, you’re very smart, very cultured. You unknowingly showed me a globe, so I assumed linguistics. When you drink you hold yourself in a way,”

”In what way?”

”Graceful. My feet ached. So I’m guessing ballet.”

”Ding, ding, ding! You’re correct!” Viktor beamed, drumming his fingers on his lap excitedly. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile fondly at his childish antics. His chest felt warm, arms swaddled in a soft material.

He likes contact. Soft, warm, contact.

Yuuri suddenly feels cold.

He never got a lot of that.

“Do you mind if I sit closer to you?” Yuuri asked, anxiety and nervousness ebbing away into something fond. 

“Huh? Oh- sure!” Yuuri scooted his barstool closer, placing his feet on the metal railing at the bottom of Viktor’s own seat, framing his knees with the Russian’s.

A thump. 

A rapid fire heartbeat.

He’s happy.

This is the happiest he’s been for a while.

”Now, I recall asking for the difference between clairvoyance and mediumship.”

Yuuri flushes, snapped back to reality.

”Right, yes of course, uh... so clairvoyance is senses and mediumship is communication with the other side. Those two typically go together and rarely not. It’s usually a package deal.”

Viktor nodded with understanding, very lightly placing his warm hands into Yuuri’s knees.

Ache.

He needs more. 

Yuuri shuffles closer, reciprocating the action. 

Heartbeat.

Contentment. 

“Anything else, beautiful psychic man?” 

Yuuri had only half the mind to blush, too busy focusing on Viktor’s happiness in the moment to answer.

”Precognition is popular with people.”

Viktor takes in a breath.

”Precognition? So... you can see the future?”

”Well, not really. I can’t exactly give you a play-by-play of your future, but I can read future emotions.”

”And by that you mean..?” Viktor questions, gently curling his fingers over Yuuri’s knees, moving them up just slightly.

Comforting.

”Well, women are always curious about their love lives; thankfully, that’s the thing I’m best at. Brings in a lot of business. Men are usually wondering about their careers. I can give names and feelings but not much else.”

“Oh? Can you determine who my soulmate might be?” 

Yuuri laughed, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Maybe. I can give you a description if you’re really curious.”

”Free of charge?”

”Free of charge.”

Viktor grins, trailing his hands up to Yuuri’s thighs ever so slightly.

”Deal.” 

Heartbeat. 

Tight chest.

Anticipation.

Lonliness?

Yuuri shook himself from his thoughts, finally pulling his other hand from his notebook, clicking his pen. He very gently placed his hands over Viktor’s letting out a smooth breath of air.

”Well, they’ll be supportive of you and your career, even if it changes, though they are headstrong, so if you’re wiling to put up with selfishness, then they’re the one for you...” Yuuri hums, shutting his eyes briefly. “I see gold. Lots of gold. I think there’s marriage? It’s a big hoopla, of course. You were always one for extravagance, hmm?”

Viktor stayed silent, Yuuri squeezing his hands briefly. 

“You’ll have a lot of dirty laundry to sort through early on, but it’s solved quickly...” Viktor perks up as Yuuri coos, melting into his seat, running his thumbs over Viktor’s knuckles. “Aw a puppy~ I’ve always liked dogs.” 

After a few moments of Yuuri humming pleasantly he re-opens his eyes, met with the sight of Viktor leaning in closely, a soft smile of his face.

”Me, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing about the Ouija boards and tarot cards thing is something that should be taken to heart. They are both equally dangerous activities to take part in, especially if they are not taken with a grain of salt. I personally do not sell Ouija boards or tarot cards to people unless they are regular magic users or Wiccans (people who base themselves off of herbal and positive energy with a sense of enlightenment). Read the notes each chapter for a regular psychic fact! And leave a comment for a fact or correction you’d like to see!


	3. Mocha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite comment thus far on this is: “They gon kiss”  
> And you were right  
> They are gon kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your chapter-ly psychic fact: I’ve found that the brain activity in the frontal lobe drops dramatically whenever psychics or mediums do readings. I think it’s pretty interesting and kind of odd, since the frontal lobe of the brain is what controls decision making, consciousness, problem solving, focusing and emotion.

They talked for two hours.  
Yuuri had never read someone, let alone conversed, for that long since he and Phichit became friends.  
(Yuuri checked in on his Thai friend often and double checked that yes, he was sober, and yes he’d drop the location of where he and his new hottie, named Chris, would be before they left the bar)  
They got into some emotional stuff, and he turned down Viktor’s offer to buy him another cider, not looking to make a fool of himself.  
Yuuri found out through images of bloody dance shoes and faint aches that Viktor’s mother was a former prima ballerina, whom had danced in the production The Nutcracker up until she had her son and even weeks after his birth.  
Through the faint taste of bitter coffee and phantom grips on his wrist gave away that Viktor’s father was a serious and devout business man who had no time for nonsense, leaving Viktor’s grandmother to raise him. She didn’t represent herself through signs, but through soft words of Russian and proudness.  
After Viktor was thoroughly shaken, struggling to fight off tears that came easily with the flood of emotions and four glasses of red wine, Yuuri took the man’s hands into his own and pressed them to his chest.  
“You have some baggage. It’s a lot of heavy stuff.” Yuuri mumbled comfortingly, rubbing soothing circles into Viktor’s hands. “But that’s okay. Everybody does. It doesn’t make you less of a man. In fact, it makes you more. I’m glad you shared this with me.”  
When the evening was coming to an end and the bar was closing down, Viktor walked Yuuri outside, pulling him close by the waist into a hug in the middle of the sidewalk, soft words murmured into his ear.  
“Please don’t go, Yuuri. I want to learn about you, too.”  
With that, Yuuri unhesitantly hopped into a semi stranger’s car for the first time in his entire life to drive back to his apartment.  
If it could even be considered that.  
The flat was huge, with two floors on top of each other that were at least double the size of Yuuri’s own apartment. Viktor’s taste in decor was very smart and plain, consisting of mostly black and various shades of grey, sometimes white.  
And Viktor had a dog.  
Yuuri had to say that meeting the sweet ball of curls was the best part of the night. The instant he made eye contact with the adorable poodle he tasted a light vanilla on his tongue, a warm smell of coffee hinted in his nose.  
“Mocha?”  
Viktor smiled. “Makkachin.”  
Yuuri nodded, satisfied with the answer before cooing to the mess of fur in front of him.  
“You’re a pretty girlie, aren’t you? Hmm? Are you a pretty girl?”  
Viktor laughed from somewhere behind him, the clinking of cups coming from the kitchen.  
“Yuuri, I’m starting to believe you like the dog more than me.”  
“Can you blame me?” Yuuri whined, pressing his and Makkachin’s cheeks together. “She’s the cutest!”  
“Cuter than me?” Viktor asked incredulously, the smell of dark brew wafting through the house.  
Yuuri flushed, looking back down at the dog before him.  
“Uh- Well... uhm... uh...”  
“It’s okay,” Viktor reassured, stepping out from the kitchen the ruffle the curly fur on Makkachin’s head. “I’ll always come second to this beautiful lady. Isn’t that right Makka-Makkachin?”  
Makka merely yipped in response, jumping up to press her paws onto Viktor’s chest.  
Yuuri sighed, standing up from his place on the hardwood floor, a sudden unfiltered thought running through his mind.  
‘Will Makkachin like our new poodle in the future? I hope so.’

* * *

  
“Thanks.” Yuuri mumbled, taking the warm mug of coffee from Viktor’s outstretched hand; the man quickly perching himself down next to him on the couch.  
“Don’t mention it.” They sat in silence for a moment, sipping from their mugs leisurely, Yuuri letting out a delightful hum at the taste, making Viktor’s face break out into a smile.  
“Taste good?”  
“So good. What brand is this?”  
Viktor shrugged, pushing his hair behind his ear to take a drink.  
“Something way too fancy for instant coffee.” Yuuri let out a soft laugh in response, returning to own mug.  
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, Yuuri listening to the steady thump of a heartbeat in his mind, indicating that Viktor was more than comfortable, even a bit elated, that Yuuri was around.  
“So, Yuuri,” Viktor began, tilting his head to catch Yuuri’s attention. “now that we’ve clarified that I’m an open book for you, I think it’s your turn.”  
“My turn?”  
Viktor nodded, pressing closer to his guest, letting their thighs touch.  
“I want to learn. Where are you from? Why are you here? What do you do? All of that.”  
Yuuri shrugged, focusing on the warmth of the mug in his hands.  
“It’s not all that interesting.”  
“Not interesting? The life of a psychic not interesting? I find that hard to believe.”  
“Well, believe it,” Yuuri sighs, setting his mug down onto the coffee table so he could fiddle with his hands. “I’m pretty boring. I look boring, I sound boring, I don’t have any friends beside Phichit- who’s great! Really! I’m boring enough that I majored in physics which no one but physicists find interesting. I stay inside all day to play video games and work in a creepy store and everything about me is so run of the mill that I don’t even understand why you’d-“  
Yuuri is cut off by a pair of hands covering his own, which have begun to shake. He looks up at Viktor, mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise as the man moves closer, bringing Yuuri’s hands up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to his fingers.  
“You know what I think?” Viktor murmurs, very gently placing a hand onto Yuuri’s waist, searching his face for any discomfort, before pulling him closer.  
“What?”  
“I think that all of that boring talk is absolute bullshit.” Yuuri gasped softly, letting himself be pulled close enough to touch their chests together, taking note of Viktor’s erratic heartbeat.  
“You do?” He whispers in the hairbreadth of space between them.  
Viktor merely nods, humming to himself as he runs a gentle hand over Yuuri’s hip.  
“I think you’re exciting, smart, passionate-“  
“Hotheaded you mean.”  
Viktor chuckles, tugging Yuuri’s hand up to press another kiss to his fingertips.  
“That too. But it’s cute, like an angry chihuahua.” Viktor earned a light slap in the chest for that. “And you are certainly not boring looking.”  
Yuuri couldn’t help but scoff, looking down at his feet.  
“Compared to you, I certainly am.”  
“Well then don’t compare yourself to me.” Viktor mumbles, lifting Yuuri’s chin to make eye contact, lighting stroking his thumb over his lower lip. “Because personally, I don’t understand how anyone could not find you absolutely gorgeous.”  
With that, Viktor swooped in, pressing an all too sweet kiss to the smaller man’s lips, Yuuri quickly pressing closer to reciprocate.  
He tasted like mocha.


	4. Nervous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri digs up some emotions that makes Viktor do a little bit of self reflecting and Yuuri a little bit of panicking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The date before the date, basically. (Tune into the notes at the end of the chapter for your weekly psychic fact told by your favorite psychic)

“I’ll see you again?”  
“Yes, Viktor.”   
“Do you promise?”  
Yuuri giggled, leaning over the center console of Viktor’s car, pressing a gentle kiss to the Russian’s lips, Viktor melting into his seat.   
Yuuri pulled away before Viktor could tug him closer, met with a whine of protest.  
“I promise. I put my number in your phone, you can call me anytime.”   
“What about tomorrow? Can I call you tomorrow?” Yuuri cooed, Viktor tipping him forward for yet another kiss.   
“Yes, Viktor you can call me tomorrow. Though not the day after; I have work.”  
“Okay, gotcha. Talk to you tomorrow, then?”  
Another kiss. “Mmm tomorrow.”  
Viktor, ever the gentleman, walked Yuuri to his apartment building entrance, tugging him close as they said their goodbyes, waiting for Yuuri to let him know that he got inside safely before he drove off.  
Yuuri couldn’t help but swoon as soon as he shut his apartment door, melting into his shoes; mostly due to the fact that a supermodel of a man had swept him off his feet, and was interested in him. Really interested in him.   
But it was also the fact that Viktor was giving off such clear readings; he was unknowingly expressing his infatuation through subtle feelings of warmth and rapid changes in heartbeat whenever Yuuri leaned in close enough to kiss.  
Viktor had listened intently when Yuuri told him of his past, his upbringing and how he dealt which such a gift as a child. They’d delved so deep into conversation, drinking cup after cup of coffee that they barely even noticed it was close to hitting midnight already. So, instead of him taking the metro, Viktor drove him home instead, holding steady conversation in the car up until they’d arrived at Yuuri’s apartment.   
Yuuri nearly cried over how sincere Viktor was. With every word and every gesture, it was all so pure in intention that Yuuri almost broke down right then and there. He’d never met someone like that before.   
And most importantly: he had a dog.  
That’s it Yuuri’s done for.

* * *

  
The next morning Yuuri woke up to a message from Viktor, which was accompanied by a too cute emoji.  
Viktor: Good morning, beautiful! Text me when you wake up! “ヽ(´♡｀)ノ”  
Yuuri couldn’t help but smile, quickly typing out a response.  
Yuuri: Good morning, Viktor! Did you sleep well?  
Viktor: Yes, though I do think I had a bit too much coffee last night. My tummy aches (ﾉД｀)  
Yuuri couldn’t hold in a squeal.   
Viktor Nikiforov, a wide shouldered, deep voiced, honest to god Russian, who had swept Yuuri off of his feet the previous night, said he had a tummy ache.   
Yuuri was going to die right then and there.  
Yuuri: I’m sorry to hear that. I really hope you feel better!  
Viktor: Me, too. I was hoping that I could take you on a proper date today!   
Yuuri blinked, squinting to make sure he read the message correctly.  
Yuuri: A proper date?  
Viktor: Yeah! We could go get lunch! Or maybe shop around?   
Viktor: I know! How about we take Makka to the doggy park? She’d love it! ヽ(°ᴥ°)ﾉ  
That was it. Yuuri was a goner.  
A date.  
A doggy park date.  
He was in heaven.  
Yuuri: Sure, that sounds great! I’d love to! What time?  
Viktor: Anytime as long as it isn’t too late. Makkachin doesn’t like the cold on her paws. I spoil her too much ヽ(°ᴥ°)ﾉ  
Yuuri: How about in an hour then? Gives me time to get ready.  
Viktor: Sounds good! Pick you up soon! (´з｀)⊃～ ♡  
Yuuri responded with a quick heart emoji, practically leaping out of bed to rush into the bathroom and turn the shower on, running into his roommate dragging his feet down the hall.  
“Woah, Yuuri, where are you rushing off to? It’s barely ten!”   
“Phichit, I have a doggy park date in an hour and I cannot be late, please move.”  
Phichit blinked once, twice, before busting out in the biggest grin.   
“Say no more, my friend, I’ll go pick out your outfit.” 

* * *

  
An hour later, Yuuri was showered, dressed and ready to go as soon as Viktor called saying he was outside.   
He had rushed down to the lobby, quickly saying goodbye to Phichit as he left before he spotted Viktor standing outside, looking cozy in a wide knitted scarf and a button down jacket, hair styled loosely.   
All thoughts were rushed from his mind as those blue eyes landed on him.  
“Yuuri!” Viktor crooned, pulling the smaller man close by the waist. “You look absolutely adorable!”  
“Thanks,” Yuuri hummed, doing a shy twirl, much to Viktor’s insistence. “Phichit picked it out.”  
‘It’ was currently a big cream colored sweater that hung down to Yuuri’s hips, right below the belt line of a nicer-than-usual pair of jeans, the sleeves covering way over his hands, leaving him no choice but to roll them up to his elbows.   
“Well, you look fantastic in it. Shall we go? We can grab something to eat on the way there.” Yuuri nodded, placing a quick pat on Makkachin’s head before following after the man.   
Viktor, still ever the gentleman, made sure Yuuri walked on the inside of the sidewalk, standing as a barrier between him and the street.   
“That sweater of yours is too cute to get all muddy from rude drivers.” He said, when Yuuri asked him about the gesture, flashing him the sweetest smile.  
They walked along the busy streets of Detroit, Makkachin running every which way on her retractable leash to smell every brick and lamp post they came across. Eventually they stopped for coffee, Viktor breezily ordering for the both of them, and indulging Yuuri when he caught him eyeing a beautiful piece of cheesecake in the display cabinet, much to Yuuri’s protest.   
Once they were seated, Makkachin laying down dutifully at their feet, their Macchiatos places in front of them, conversation settled into a comfortable null. They took turns bringing up simple subjects before letting them fade out easily, falling into an easy silence.   
Yuuri could see Viktor staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he was currently too focused on a young lady outside the shop sitting on a bark bench, flipping through a book.  
‘Evolution of Desire, huh?’ Yuuri was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Viktor calling his name softly.   
“Huh? What?”  
“What’s on your mind, hmm? You seem to be thinking very hard.” Yuuri sighed, picking up his dainty mug from the table top and sipping at it tentatively before looking back at the woman, pointing to her.   
“Whatever she’s thinking about she’s thinking about it too loud. She’s projecting so hard I feel like my head’s gonna explode.”   
Viktor blinks. “You can hear her?”  
“All the way from here. Everyone else in here have whispers for thoughts and she sticks out like crazy.”  
“What’s it sound like?”  
Yuuri hums, reaching across the table to grasp Viktor’s hands in his own for some sort of grounding, Viktor letting himself be pulled easily.   
“Like thunderstorms. Like popping lightbulbs and that weird white noise of a really big fire. That kind of stuff.”   
Viktor nods absently, trying to imagine all of the noises at once.   
“And what does it sound like in here?”  
He watches as Yuuri breathes out a long sigh, his lips in a soft ‘o’ shape.   
“Like the sound of water over rocks,” he says, speaking barely over a whisper. “like wind chimes, kinda, but softer.”  
Viktor hums low in his throat, running his thumbs over Yuuri’s knuckles as they fell into silence once again.   
“I think you sound pretty nice, by the way.” Yuuri says, breaking their temporary quiet.   
“You do?”  
The smaller man flushed a delightful pink, making Viktor coo. “W-Well I mean you’ve always sounded nice. Like violin and crunching snow except...” Yuuri bites his lip, hesitating.  
“Except what?”  
“Except... it’s... it’s all really sad. The violin sounds beautiful, but it’s like it’s hollow... like playing for an empty concert hall... lonely. It’s a song I know, too... “ Yuuri sighs, looking down at their adjoined hands, taking one of Viktor’s and tracing shapes into his palm with his index finger before humming softly. “Stammi vicino... non te ne andare...”   
All the while Viktor just watches on, breathless as Yuuri writes out empty words, drawing shapes of little hearts with cracks down the middle.   
His humming stops abruptly, as if his voice is caught in his throat, before looking up with a solemn expression.   
Viktor is instantly lost in those sad eyes.   
“Are you okay..?” Yuuri asks. That simple question causes Viktor to snap back to reality, like he was crashing down to earth. Something must have shown on his face, for not even five seconds later, Yuuri yanks away his hands like he’s burned, slapping a hand over his mouth and looking away, practically turning around his chair.   
“I’m so sorry! I won’t ever do that again, I promise!” He whimpers, and the sound of his voice squeezes Viktor’s heart painfully in his chest. “I shouldn’t have just dug around in your subconscious like that. It was rude and invasive of me.”   
Viktor remains silent, watching as Yuuri places his head down on the table, mumbling to himself.  
“Now you sound all wrong... you sound so wrong...”   
Viktor sighs, reaching down lift Yuuri’s head from where it was working to make and impression of its self into the tabletop.   
Viktor’s heart broke at the sight of watery doe eyes, shushing the younger man softly as he brushed Yuuri’s hair from his face.   
“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to ruin our date so early on...”  
“When you were planning on ruining it?”   
Yuuri shrugged, leaning into Viktor’s touch ever so slightly.   
“I don’t know... probably later when you try to kiss me and then realize that you’re wasting your time.”  
Viktor chuckles, caressing Yuuri’s cheekbones gently.  
“Then that would be me ruining the date, no?”  
“No. It’d be my fault for making you waste your time in the first place.”  
“Well, lucky for you,” Viktor hums, releasing Yuuri’s face to bring his hands up for a kiss on each finger. “I’ve got plenty of time to waste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s your weekly psychic fact: Psychics cannot and usually will not delve into your subconscious and conscious mind without permission. Most professionals and practicing amateurs will ask for permission, but if you don’t let them in willingly, they hit a wall, and can’t gather much from you at all. Yuuri knew this, but was too busy freaking out to remember that. So, Viktor let Yuuri into his mind willingly.


	5. Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some miscommunication between Viktor and Yuuri starts things off a little awkward. But, life goes on, and affection ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I didn’t post on schedule last week, or at all, for that matter. I really was not in the mood to write and had no idea what I would include in chapter 5 of this fic. I feel like the shorter chapters are making me lazier with my writing style, so instead of uploading every week, I’ll be uploading every other week, so that you guys can get better/longer chapters, and I can write a better quality fic. So, this will be the last short chapter you’ll see.  
> PSYCHIC FACT OF THE WEEK IN THE NOTES BELOW!!

The rest of the date was quiet, to say the least.

While Viktor talked and talked, Yuuri attempted to bury himself in his sweater, listening to silently and giving soft grunts whenever appropriate.

By the time they were walking back from the doggy park, Makkachin thoroughly tuckered out, practically dragging her paws, Viktor couldn’t help but feel a bit put off at Yuuri’s silence, taking it as a sign of discomfort.

They steadily made their way back to Yuuri’s apartment, Viktor’s heart was heavy in his chest. He thought things were going so well, but, it seemed he had thought wrong; for it was awkward and quiet.

Before Viktor could grovel for much longer, they had already arrived at the building, both of them stopping in their tracks, shuffling awkwardly.

Viktor let out a long breath, before turning to face Yuuri, plastering a smile on his face.

“Well, looks like this is it.”

Yuuri looked up from beneath his lashes, nodding in affirmation. Viktor’s heart cracked, but the smile stayed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make this better. I noticed you didn’t have very much fun, I wasn’t expecting this date to blow up in my face.”

Yuuri whipped his head up, startling Viktor as he shook his hands in a panicked, protesting fashion. 

"No, no, no, it didn't! I had fun I promise!" The smaller protested, switching to wringing his hands rather than flailing them in Viktor's face. 

Viktor's heart thumped harshly in his chest, once, twice. This sweet man was sparing his feelings. 

Viktor felt his smile waver a little bit. 

How pitiful. 

"Yuuri, you don't have to lie. It's okay if you didn't have a good time, it doesn't hurt to be honest. I won't be angry about it, so don't worry." Of course, Viktor wouldn't become angry with Yuuri. How could he? He may end up walking back to his car in the parking garage and cry until he feels himself shrivel up from dehydration, but he would never get angry for a reason such as this. 

"I'm not lying!" Yuuri exclaims, taking a hold of Viktor's hands hurriedly and pressing them to his chest, his heart beating wildly under Viktor's fingertips. "I just get too into my head, that's all. I was thinking about everything I said earlier and then I started dwelling on it and asking myself questions I shouldn't have been and then I was too overwhelmed by everything around me because I'm usually so good at focusing my line of sight in one direction but I was too distracted and I-"

"Hey, hey, breathe." Viktor insists, the anxiety practically coming off of Yuuri in waves. "It's okay, I understand, don't worry. I'm glad you decided to tell me this." 

When Yuuri's rambling ceased, but his heavy, nearly staggering breaths, continued, Viktor took their joined hands, kissing over Yuuri's knuckles in a feather light manner, speaking as calmly as possible. 

"How about we get you inside, hmm? We can sit you down on your couch, make some tea, talk for a little bit. I'm sure Makka would love to be around you for a little while longer, but only if you're comfortable with us visiting."

Yuuri merely nodded weakly, breaths evening out slowly, slowly moving himself closer to the Russian, the man not hesitating to wrap his around around the smaller. 

"That... that sounds nice." 

"Doesn't it? Come on, let's get inside, it's chilly out here."

* * *

After Yuuri’s mini meltdown, Viktor rushed him up to his apartment, Makkachin bounding in happily, eager to smell anything and everything Yuuri related. 

At least the apartment was clean.

The Russian immediately relocated the smaller, picking him up unhesitantly and placing him down onto the couch as gently as possible, tossing the throw blanket that was draped over the couch onto Yuuri’s lap. 

It was a minute before Viktor sat down himself, placing a decent amount of space between them, taking precaution to make sure that he didn’t make the man uncomfortable, before noticing Yuuri wrap his arms around himself, rubbing his forearms as though he were cold.  

“Yuuri.” Viktor called for him ever so softly, grabbing his attention. He unhesitantly opened his arms, beckoning the smaller man closer, Yuuri visibly relaxing before taking his time crawling over, Viktor easily taking him into his arms and onto his lap, making Yuuri blush, but make no move to leave his spot. 

“I’m a terrible host.” Yuuri sighed, tugging at the scarf that still hung from Viktor neck. “You still have your coat on and everything.”

Viktor said nothing, only letting Yuuri pull off his scarf and slip said coat off of his shoulders before tossing it to the opposite side of the couch. 

They sat in silence for a minute, Viktor rubbing soothing circles into Yuuri’s hips with his thumbs while Yuuri brought his hands up to wordlessly caress at Viktor’s cheeks, the Russian leaning into his touch without protest. 

Viktor couldn’t help but let out a pleased rumble in his chest as a pair of plush lips pressed against his own, closing his eyes as he tightened his grip around Yuuri’s waist. 

They kissed for what seemed like forever, Yuuri readjusting himself on Viktor lap without parting from Viktor’s lips. His hands trailed from Viktor face to his chest, caressing over his heart almosy absently; Viktor was sure Yuuri could feel his heart as it beat erratically in his chest. 

It took minutes before they pulled away, lips still barely touching as they slightly gasped for breath, eyes meeting in half lidded, almost lazy stares.

”You’re really warm.” Yuuri mumbles, breaking the breadth of silence between them. Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling Yuuri even closer.

”You’re warm, too.” 

Yuuri merely hummed in response, reaching up to gently play with the delicate silver ends of Viktor’s hair.

”Your hair is so pretty... It’s so soft...”

”You think so?” Viktor mumbles, gently caressing Yuuri’s back in more of a grounding than a comforting manner. 

“Mmhm... It reminds me of startdust... the color suits you well...”

Viktor couldn’t help but coo, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s lips before responding.

”I’m so glad you like it.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psychic Fact from your friendly neighborhood psychic:  
> So, clairvoyance is actually very subtle, and not big and dramatic like they portray on TV. In the first chapter of the fic, I mentioned that I do automatic writing, but I wasn't clairvoyant. Turns out, I was wrong, for after doing some extensive research and talking to a good (aka real) practicing psychic, that I actually am clairvoyant.  
> When you're clairvoyant, it means that you can see things or predict things a little too easily. It almost feels like you're making stuff up in your mind. Do your daydream and wandering mind conjure feelings and images that seem too real to be just your imagination? You might just have clairvoyance. The visions that are associated with the ability happen in your mind’s eye.

**Author's Note:**

> I do a lot of automatic writing myself, but not on the level that Yuuri does in here.  
> I do little tidbits: vague words I hear and conversations I happen to be having subconsciously. I didn't know the proper term for it until just a while ago, but it's a very odd psychic trait to have alone, since typically automatic writers have a sense of clairvoyance. I don't, sadly, but it's a gift I guess.


End file.
